Chameleon
by Snorcackle
Summary: Regina Novak is just an ordinary chemist -at least, she thinks so until a mysterious man shows up in her office.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters in any way, shape, or form.

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Now, how had she gotten here?

She must have been dreaming just now; that was the only explanation. Just a daydream. She was just good old chemist Regina Novak, and good old chemist Regina Novak had one hell of a headache. Nothing that a spot of whiskey couldn't help. But the dreams that had just flown through her head –well, now, those were bizarre. They couldn't have possibly made any sense. She'd led a normal life as a chemist here in the forty-third century: born on a space station to die on a space station. Nothing bizarre at all. She'd been raised from birth to be a chemist. Her parents… What had happened to them? Oh, yes, they had been subject to a rather unfortunate explosion on Station Five, and, to clear her mind of any trauma, she had been moved to Station Six. Good thing, too, since Five had destroyed by warring aliens the day she'd left.

Regina shook her head. The dreams were sticking with her today. They never had before –had they? She couldn't really remember.

A good look around her office reminded her of how human she was. It wasn't necessary for her to place her hand against the left side of her chest, which gave a resolute _thumpthump_, or the right side of her chest, which gave a resolute silence. No, she was definitely still a human, but it was nice to be certain.

She took out the old fob watch stowed in the pocket of her vest. The watch was anachronistic; it was impossibly old. She could almost remember her parents telling her how it had been passed down for generations. Why, she couldn't possibly explain, but she went nowhere without it. It was as though a part of her was beating through it.

Regina walked to her bathroom and simply stared at the mirror. Same face, same thick hair. She'd grown old in her spare time, unfortunately, and the circles under her eyes were significantly darker than they had been in her dream. She now sported a few grays in her mane. Her face, once smooth, now had a small number of wrinkles and spots. She smoothed her white lab coat down with her hands –how different it was from that glittered jacket in her reverie! Her face was not graced with the ridiculous amounts of makeup; indeed, it was almost entirely clean. The work of a chemist did not permit for that sort of thing.

A sound from her office called her back out. The man standing there was unfamiliar: his bleached blonde hair blended in to his weary face, and his eyes sparkled with strange combination of burning passion and sheer madness. It was difficult for Regina to understand this man who seemed simultaneously so tired and so very alive.

She closed her eyes and flashbacks of her dream flooded her mind. The man in front of her reminded her so very much of the man in the dream. They looked nothing alike, of course: the man in the dream had a goatee and wore a thick velvet jacket, but he had the same fire behind his eyes, the same absolute madness to his gaze that Regina couldn't shake.

When her eyes flew open again, the man's face had flown into a devilish grin. "Professor Yana, University of Malcassairo," he said as he stuck out his hand. His voice was certain, but it had a sort of raspy madness to it. She could hardly blame him for that; her own voice had a similar quality to it. Still, she had trouble believing him, even as she took his hand. His voice showed signs of delight as he said, "I understand you've been having _dreams_."

This startled her quite a bit. Quite impressive, really. Very little did any more. Regina took a step back as she replied, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you _do_." He smirked as he tucked his hands behind his back. His disheveled suit creased as he bent forward. "Regina, is it?" He didn't even wait for her to nod. "Might I see your fob watch?" His eyes twinkled.

For some odd reason Regina couldn't possibly explain, she reached into her pocket. As she did so, her mind flashed to her dream again; a dream of being an outcast of her species, of being unable to return; of feeling a sharp pain when she realized, quite suddenly, that the others were gone. She couldn't possibly remember how she knew it, but it seemed to be a very fact of her being, a matter of complete and total assurance. She felt the fear of falling with them, of pouring every essence of her being into a bit of machinery just to continue making improvements to the world she saw around her. Shaking it from her head once more, she reluctantly handed over the watch to the vivacious, unkempt man in front of her.

"Have you ever opened this watch, Regina?"

"No." It was the truth. "It's a broken old relic. What use would that be?"

"Oh, curiosity would get the better of most people." The professor's eyes gleamed. "But you aren't most people, are you? You're a genius. Cold, yes. Amoral, yes. But ordinary? Never."

Regina peered at him. Did she agree with him? Of course. But something about him was disconcerting at best, and downright disturbing at worst.

"Go on," he said, his smile growing wilder. "It may be an heirloom, but heirlooms can be worth quite a bit. You'll never know until you look at it just a little bit closer. It could very well change your life. I would know."

Could she trust him?

Without another thought, she snatched the fob watch back. Her eyes narrowed as she fumbled with the lock. Damn thing wanted to stick. It finally did come undone, however, and when it did, the dream was no longer a dream. She could feel every cell in her body morph as the face of the clock flipped and twisted before her eyes –were they even her eyes anymore? She felt different. Fantasy and reality meshed into one as she became once again what she had always been.

Her glare turned to the man in front of her. Nothing was going to get past her now. "So I see you've escaped the Time War too, hmm?" Professor, her right buttock. He was about as likely to teach people as he was to give them free puppies. She hadn't seen this particular face before, but he wasn't hard to recognize.

"More than that. I nearly brought Gallifrey back. Managed to convince the Doctor that I sacrificed myself to send them back. That was a laugh." He chuckled.

"Oh?" She wasn't really listening. Instead, she trotted back to the mirror in her bathroom. Pity her body was older now. Those high-heeled boots she was so fond of would be considerably more painful to wear now.

"Yes, actually. I tossed them back into the time lock, in a manner of speaking, and, from there on out, a simple vortex manipulator kept me from flying in with them. Laughably easy, actually. But, you know me. I _always_ escape."

"Fascinating." It wasn't. She could have maneuvered that and finished teasing her hair in the meanwhile. Pity that he thought he was impressive. One look in the mirror reminded her that, indeed, her hair could use some work, as could her skin, and eyes, and, well, everything else. Ugh. Being old was a bore.

"I believe that leaves three of us, then. All renegades, all masters of our own fate. Not subject to the whims of other Time Lords or inferior species." She could hear his laughter grow maniacal. Typical. "Well, I, for one, am inclined to make my presence known."

"That's nice." Perhaps a regeneration was in order. She hadn't used up too many yet, and this old body was hardly suited for conducting experiments across the galaxy. She needed something young and agile, something that commanded fear. Not that scaring people was her prime directive; it never had been. She simply found that a little bit of fear could make for a highly effective tool in conducting her research. Yes, a quick regeneration would be just what she needed.

"So, what do you say?" he asked, grinning as his face appeared behind her in the reflection. "Two renegade Time Lords against one. The perfect combination."

"I say you ought to leave me alone for a minute so I can get changed." She scowled.

"Right, yes. Sorry." He dashed out of the bathroom.

Light began to seep from her hands. Now that she thought about it, she'd never had to regenerate for the sheer convenience of it before. This might be tricky for the average Time Lady, but she could pull it off easily. She was quite suddenly overtaken by a sharp burst of energy flowing through every last cell of her body.

As she stared back in the mirror, she couldn't say she was displeased. At the very least, she was relatively youthful. Not one-hundred and fifty again, unfortunately, but no gray hairs, no sunspots. Not even a freckle. A few wrinkles around the neck, yes, but nothing nearly as bad as her last body had been at the end of its run. A quick rummage through her relatively unused makeup drawer helped her to highlight her features: deep red lips, thinly penciled eyebrows, longer extents of eyeliner. It was a pity she didn't have a closet, because this stark white lab coat simply wouldn't do. Perhaps a blazer and a skirt? Black would _definitely _be her new color. High-heeled boots? Simple pumps would be much more practical.

When she exited, the man stared her up and down. "New you. I like it." He broke into a devilish grin once more. "So what do you say, Master and Rani, just like old times?"

"What old times?" Her voice had less of a rasp to it. Well, that was certainly different. It was low, yes, but it was quite clear. She rather liked it. It was _sinister_.

The Master looked stunned. "Well, I presumed-"

"Presumed what?" The corners of her mouth flicked upwards into a smirk. "That I'd find you any more useful now than you were then? That I'd join you in your quest to make the Doctor _pay_ for the wrongs he's never done you? That I wouldn't have anything better to do as one of the last Time Ladies in existence?" She laughed as he stared at her, mildly flabbergasted. "This incarnation doesn't suit you. I liked you better with that ridiculous beard. At any rate, I've got more important tasks to get to. For instance, that bit about our entire race being gone. I feel that I ought to work on that. A few experiments, and it should be up and running again in no time. Perhaps I'll engineer my own little Time Lady to get rid of that blasted Doctor, so he doesn't get rid of _us_ again. Although…" She eyed him up and down. "You can go too, for all I care."

"Don't be rash."

"_Rash_ would be approaching a Time Lady who has spent thirty years as a human and expecting her to thank you for destroying her planet the second time around. This is planned. _This_ is brilliant." She gave a smug smile as she collected whatever useful assets were lying around. "Now, if you can help me construct a new time machine, then, perhaps, you'll prove your worth."

The Master snapped what looked like a wristwatch off of his hand and reluctantly dropped it in the Rani's palm. "I suppose this might just do the trick."

"Oh. Just a vortex manipulator?" She wrinkled her nose. "I suppose I could construct a shell around it." She turned her glance back to him. "Very well. You've earned your keep for now."

He smiled like the pathetic, happy puppy she knew him to be on the inside. "So, where do you plan on going first?"

"Patience," she hissed. "You know how a simple mention of the name can trigger recognition for a Time Lord. We need to think of alternate identities."

"Very well." The Master frowned as he thought. It was hard for him, she was sure. "What will yours be?"

"Oh, I don't know for certain yet." The Rani smiled as she tweaked the vortex manipulator in her hand. "I was thinking Kovarian."


End file.
